I'm a PSYCHOPATH!!!

Okay, so the cave troll was up at 4:30 this morning, crawling into bed with us and then poking at our faces to see how long he could do that before we snapped and beat him. We never did beat him (although the less sleep we get the more likely the event of that actually happening...) but my usually twisty personality kinked another turn around the old normalcy pole today... and I'm not the only one...

Cave troll's insomnia was apparently caused by a reluctant bm (don't let the doctor spock parenting books fool you--50% of a child's moods can be discerned by whether or not they've had a good poop or if the whole tanker is wedged in the channel so to speak) so the little goombah got up manically and was jumping up on the bed chanting "jump jump jump jump" like some sort of demented exercise video, occassionally landing on his father, who was stoically pretending that he wasn't going to have to wake up and help me wade through the morass an early waking toddler automatically makes of my morning. "God, Kewyn, you're such a little maniac!" Mate grumbled. ("jump jump jump jump jump...") "Could you try not to be such a psychopath?"

Imagine a sudden pause, and a bright eyed, manic-dimpled grin. "I am a PSYCHOPATH!" crowed my toddler triumphantly. Remember--this is the same kid who only speaks when he really feels he has something to say. Well that word apparently resonated because he was shrieking it with glee on the way out the door this morning. "I'm a little PSYCHOPATH!!!" And Mate and I followed blearily in his wake, along with precious adorable sister who was very upsot at being slung in the baby basket to leave because she fell asleep at 6:30 last night and slept in 'til 6:30 this morning and was wondering who in the hell had deprived her of her "I'm the most important person in the world" time.

So I get to school this morning, and I manage to keep a semi-professional face for my 2nd period, but by my 3rd period, I'd completely lost all sense of perspective, and these kids got a 20 minute raving lunatic monologue about the wierdness of family life that dated back to potty training Trystan with cheerios and rebounded to how it freaked Kewyn out to put perfectly good breakfast cereal in the icky place.

It was the quietest that class has been since school started and they thought they'd have the same teacher for more than five minutes at a stretch. (We just changed around 20% of our schedules. 9 weeks into the semester. For the 5th time. We're lucky the kids don't catch on to the fact that the administration is just running the computers like hamsters running a wheel and that all purpose has been lost for most of the staff... oh, wait...I think they know...) But I was mid rant to my 3rd period, and then to my 4th period, and caught them watching with bemused eyes and realized that this was it. Sleep deprivation had done it's worst--I was no longer a teacher, I was a stand-up comedienne...and a slightly off-kilter one at that.

In short people, "I am a PSYCHOPATH!" God bless the little goombah anyway...he may be the only one who thinks I make sense by the end of the day...